


Cycle of Seasons

by Sinner_Writes



Series: Cycles [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Anyways, Gen, I should be working on my other fics but nah, Minecraft fics? In 2020? God I'm pathetic., enjoy the ender dragon figuring out how to properly human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24948532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinner_Writes/pseuds/Sinner_Writes
Summary: "Mobs revive sometimes, everyone knows that.  And yes, sometimes they come back different, but not like this.  They don’t come back human.  Those stories were jokes.Evidently not, though."
Series: Cycles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818841
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	Cycle of Seasons

She wakes up in the Spring.

As soon as she opens her purple eyes, the matriarch immediately has to close them. There’s no light like this in The End, and so her eyes aren’t accustomed to it. It hurts.

Still, she tries again.

After what seems like hours (though she knows that it could only have been a few minutes), her eyes adjust, and she looks around.

She’s laying in a field of green, so unlike the pale stone of her home. In the distance, there are… Trees? But they, like the ground around her, are green, instead of the purple she knows. Where is she…?

The matriarch tries to think back, to recall what had happened. The last thing she remembers is…

…

Is she dead?

Struggling to her feet, she freezes.

This…

This isn’t how she was before, and as she goes to examine herself, she wants to scream at the strangely human hand connected to her wrist.

Nonono, this is all wrong!

Mobs revive sometimes, everyone knows that. And yes, sometimes they come back different, but  _ not like this _ . They don’t come back  _ human _ . Those stories were _ jokes. _

Evidently not, though.

Walking like this…

She’s small.  _ Vulnerable _ . She could be attacked any minute, especially if they knew what- No, WHO she is. Or was, maybe. She doesn’t want to think about that.

So, she supposes that the first order of business is to examine herself.

The (former?) creature of The End glances over her very new and unfamiliar physique. She’s wearing clothes, thankfully -- Humans tended to be picky about that. She’s in a large, oversized jacket of sorts, though she can’t find anything that’s keeping it closed. Maybe it was meant to be pulled over?

She can still feel certain…  _ attributes _ from before, and she’s relieved to find that the hoodie can cover them completely.

The matriarch also finds that she’s wearing a short pair of pants, and no shoes. It’s alright, though -- the green that covers the ground is soft.

She’s going to have to find shelter.

And, hopefully, find the person that made it necessary for her to be revived in the first place.

\---

In the Summer, she finds a village.

Or, more accurately, the villager’s current mercenary finds her.

She’s not a noble sight at all -- twigs caught in her black hair, dirt all over her… Completely unbefitting of one of her status. Still, the traveler who accidentally knocked her to the ground avoids her eyes, and she’ll take that as a sign of well-deserved respect.

“Sorry, Miss,” he replies. “Saw the black, thought you were an Enderman. A normal one, at least.”

Her? A mere drone? HAH! The absolute fool thought that she was part of that hive mind.

But still…

“Guess you’ve been revived, huh?” Oh. Oh, they knew? She wants to demand the respect that she undoubtedly deserves, but holds back. No, if they knew her importance, she’d be killed again for sure.

So she’ll bide her time, recover in the village, and then go search for her killer.

So she nods.

“Well, welcome to humanity! Do you have a name?” Her… name?

She has no name. She’s never NEEDED one.

Protector. Matriarch. Mother. These are all titles that she had worn with pride, as she ruled over her people with all the kindness that a hive queen could give. Yes, these are how she called herself.

And none of them are names.

So, as the human looks at her expectantly, she just glares.

“Okay,” He says, visibly uncomfortable. “We can work on that.”

And he gestures at her to follow.

She has no better place to go, so she’ll abide.

For now.

\---

In the Fall, she’s beginning to wish that she had never been revived in the first place.

The human has had her doing odd jobs with him to “earn her keep” for the small home she’s been given. It’s humiliating -- and yet, it’s so disgustingly rewarding that she wants to pull her hair out and scream.

She does deliveries, she’s learned how to forge, and she’s had to work in the stables and barns. Because for whatever forsaken reason, the animals seem to  _ like _ her. Foolish beasts -- she’s a  _ predator _ . If this were the wild -- if this were in HER HOME, and she were not playing nice, they would be nothing more than a meal.

But the human (whose name she will not dignify by learning) insists that the animals they keep are for wool and for milk, and the meat that the village eats is only that from hunting.

She supposes she can respect that. It doesn’t mean that she’ll enjoy the animals, though.

In fact, that foolish stray cat is always following her, and it’s so absolutely INFURIATING how it looks up at her with big, hopeful eyes. Does it think she’s going to feed it?

The answer, as it turns out, is yes, because apparently she’s a bleeding heart. The human world has made her  _ soft _ .

So that’s how she ends up with a new housemate. The tabby, despite having lived its entire life outside and ALONE, seems to take particular joy in laying on her when she’s trying to  _ sleep _ . Or even just  _ take a break and sit. _

The human, of course, finds this absolutely hilarious, especially when she’s singing to herself and NOT THE PURRING ANIMAL IN HER LAP, thank you very much.

Okay, maybe it was to the cat.

The fool tells her that she has a “lovely voice” and that she should “sing more often” because she has “real talent”. She can’t stand him. Then, he asks if she still doesn’t have a name. She tells him, quite forcefully, that she doesn’t need one. As she’s been telling him for the past two seasons.

He laughs and suggests “Melody”.

It has a nice ring to it, which she absolutely despises. But she doesn’t need a name -- It won’t matter when she finally leaves this place.

And she WILL leave -- After all, she still needs her revenge.

Right?

\---

In the Winter, she begins to help out a lot more.

It’s cold, there is nonstop snow, and all that she wants to do is curl up under a pile of blankets with her cat. Chorus - because of COURSE she named him after something from her home - seems to agree. But there’s work to be done, and she regretfully has to leave the feline to do the responsible thing of helping out.

Shoveling snow, hunting to make sure that the village has enough food, and taking crops out of the stockpile to feed the animals…

It’s drone’s work, but somehow, she finds she doesn’t mind.

And that scares her -- She knew who she was, but…

Is she still that person?

Because who she was before would never assist like this, would simply instruct the hive mind to do as she says. Now, she feels a disturbingly warm, tingly feeling at the thanks she gets. Worse yet, she  _ likes _ it. Likes being appreciated for work and not status, likes getting things done, likes feeling tired enough to curl up and pass out with the cat still on her chest.

Heck, she’s even starting to hate the human less.

Because really, did he have to bring her here? He could’ve just killed her, and nobody would have blamed him (probably). But he gave her a place to live after months of surviving in the wild, and he helped her get settled in, and he taught her the ins and outs of human society.

She’s… Starting to see this place at home.

Originally, she was going to leave as soon as the snow cleared, but would it even matter? This world is huge, and there’s no guarantee she’d even find her killer. And even if she could…

Would she really want to ruin her life now?

\---

In the Spring, the human leaves.

He’s a traveler at heart, she knows -- Always knew it from the way he’d talk of seas and deserts and combat and warmth. And, despite what she had felt when she met him, she’s… Kind of sad to see him go. The village is kind to her, yes, but…

“I’ll visit,” he laughs, and she glares. Still, there’s no malice in it anymore. No, she might actually view this human as…

A friend.

“Don’t die,” is all she says, and he laughs.

Still, humans are so frail, and what happens if he gets hurt? He turns to walk away.

“Wait,” she says. “I just-” A deep breath. “I just wanted to say… Thank you.” She doesn’t clarify, but she doesn’t need to.

The human smiles.

“Any time. Take care of them, okay?”

She --  _ Melody _ \-- nods.

This is her home now.

And, as she watches the human walk away, she looks over the world. So bright and green and  _ full of life. _ It’s… Beautiful. Compared to it, the village is so small.

But that’s okay -- it’s protected now.

And as she walks back to her village, the Dragon can’t help but feel the slightest hint of thankfulness that she was slain.

**Author's Note:**

> God, what did I just write.


End file.
